To Have a Friend
by Slytherin Cat
Summary: Once Tom Riddle had a friend too. This is how they met. The unknown Hufflepuff and the future Dark Lord.


OS written for the Stretch Your Limits Competition for the Hard Level (Tom Riddle had a friend once too) with the prompt 'Hufflepuff are good finders'.

Please review :)

**To Have a Friend**

Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You-Know-Who. The most dangerous wizard of the century, if not of all history. A killer. A murderer. A monster. Yes, that's probably how you know him.

When I first met him he was just Tom. A friend too.

Well, maybe not 'just Tom'. I don't think he ever was 'just Tom'. He couldn't be, it wasn't in his nature and it was needed if he was to survive in Slytherin. He was charismatic, charming already though he was still young and that was enough to make most people envious of him and admire him. People were drawn to him like flies to a candle in the dark night (not a very good analogy I know. Especially now that I know he became this monster that nobody could recognize anymore. Perhaps it should have been a warning sign though. After all, fire burns).

I don't think anyone bothered to look under this cover, look at what he really was. But I never had this problem: when I first met him he was without this mask, more natural I guess. Our meeting was unexpected (on both sides) and he didn't think he had to maintain his perfect façade with me.

It was in his fourth year and in my third. Slughorn had given us a new project (he did this every month, on the 1st and we had to give it back to him, completed or not, on the last day. The Professor thought it helped us acquire autonomy) and since I unfortunately was horrible at Potion, well I thought it certainly wouldn't hurt to begin early.

I went to the Library, and there he was. Sitting at the almost hidden table down the Divination Aisle that was the only one still free. Who would have thought so many people wanted to work early a Saturday morning? It didn't bother her though, because she liked the silence and didn't really mind the loneliness. It was actually pretty useful when working, not to be bothered by anyone (not that the Librarian actually let us do anything else than work, but still). I had noticed not even a few weeks in my first year that I worked best alone.

Thankfully, he didn't seem to mind my coming and he wasn't even taking half the place on the table, engrossed that he was in a big dusty books. I had nothing against reading, but you'd never find me voluntarily looking through that kind of thing. I silently settled my stuff there, went to retrieve a few books and prepared myself to dive in the mysteries of Potions in the (futile) hope to finally get a grade good enough to satisfy my family.

My mother, Evelyn Newman had been a highly skilled Potion Mistress and my father really wasn't too bad at it (I guessed I was the family disappointment there. They had never been too happy about my sorting in Hufflepuff). Both of them were wizards, my mother being a Pureblood and my father a rich Halfblood, making me the only heir to the family (which meant I had to uphold our name and pride). They wanted nothing but the best from me in everything I did.

Our family didn't really care for blood status, but a good job (if I was allowed to get one by my future husband, a stupid rule I despised) and social standing required a good reputation, a good reputation required skills, and skills required a good understanding of what I was taught at Hogwarts. Plus, now that my mother was dead, it seemed like my father wanted to become her. I didn't mind the extra attention nor had I anything against honoring my mother's memory, but he started to look into everything I did and compare it with how my mother would have done it. Thus my current Potion's problem.

My sighs of despair and my hopeless chewing on my poor quill must have bothered my otherwise silent companion because he kept sending me annoyed looks. Of course, being me I didn't truly notice those until he actually talked to me.

"Must you do this?" The tone was sharp and annoyed and the question was rude.

The sound of his voice startled me out of my concentration. Jumping, I knocked down my ink pot on my still (unfortunately) blank piece of parchment.

I quickly got up before the flowing ink reached me and fell on my clothes (the table was easy to clean, though I probably would have to throw the parchment away, but ink's stains on clothes were a bitch to get rid of). The source of my misfortune had the nerve to laugh at me when I also knocked down my bag of the bench and hit my knees on it too.

I sent the best death glare I had (though I'm not sure it was really effective since I was more hurt than angry) and he mockingly recoiled, sending me an amused smirk.

"Need help?"

"Are you seriously asking me this now?" I asked, bewildered.

"Well, it was common courtesy last time I heard, to offer help. Some people prefer to deal with their problems themselves."

"Well some people are stupid. Now can you help me get up?"

"Say please"

I couldn't help myself. I gaped. Was he for real?

"_Please_, could you help me get out of this mess you originally created?" I asked with as much sarcasm I could.

"How is this my fault?"

"You surprised me" I deadpanned.

"Well that just shows you should be more cautious" With another smirk he extended his hand and helped me up. With a single wave of his wand (when had he gotten it out?), he cleaned the table and my ruined parchment disappeared.

"Thanks" Maybe I could have been less rude in the way I said it, but this day just seemed to get worse and I still had Potions to do. I sat back at the table, rubbing my hurt leg. It almost didn't hurt anymore, but I was sure I would have a mark.

"I'm Tom"

"Mary" I replied, already looking dejectedly at the Potion book. He must have noticed that too because he talked again.

"Do you want help? For your homework I mean… You look like you could use it. Plus it would spare me the pain of hearing your sighs. It's unnerving" Was it just me or did he really say the last part like he didn't mean it?

To accept or not to accept… What a dilemma. On one hand, accepting would probably help me raise my grades and please my father but on the other it also meant I would have to spend time with Tom, and the boy was already annoying her when they only had talked for a few minutes.

"Alright. But only to spare you the pain. It wouldn't be nice of me to let you suffer when I have the way to help you…"

And so began my tutoring sessions and my subsequent friendship with Tom Riddle, who was perhaps the most complicated person I ever met. Of course it wasn't easy, because we were really different and Slytherins and Hufflepuff don't mix, everybody knows that, but I think it was worth it.

When my father pulled me out of Hogwarts at the end of my fifth year I could say that he probably was the person I would miss the most. I never saw him again (my father feared that Tom was a bad influence on me. In other words, he wanted to keep me 'pure' for my wedding) but I never forgot him.

I used to say he was extraordinary and that I was glad he let me be with him. He had such an innate understanding of the way magic worked that just watching him work was amazing. I used to say I was glad I found him.

Now that I know what he became, I can't help but wonder if I could have changed anything had I been able to stay. Because every time I hear his name (whatever name he uses now) I can't help but remember the kind (well almost) boy who helped me study Potions and always had time for me.


End file.
